<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>i don't need your pity by anajoyy</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666391">i don't need your pity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/anajoyy/pseuds/anajoyy'>anajoyy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, College, College Student Eren Yeager, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fuckboy Eren, Gifted Kid Burnout, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, traumatized reiner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:20:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/anajoyy/pseuds/anajoyy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>-spoilers for major character death up to end of s3, includes characters introduced in s4 (but no real s4 spoilers)-<br/>reiner braun is the stereotypical gifted kid who earned a full-ride scholarship to the university of his dreams: Paradis University. things are going swimmingly until his best friend dies in an accident that leaves him and his friends reeling.<br/>the pressure is too much for him, and he's now on academic probation. mikasa ackerman, the smartest girl he knows, offers to tutor him, </p><p>but things become more complicated when he meets mikasa's brother, eren--who has more to do with his reiner's situation than he could've thought.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover, Reiner Braun/Eren Yeager</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. i don't need your pity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>just an fyi, i will not be writing smut for this fic, lol. </p><p>but tw for car accidents, ptsd, and depression.</p><p>hope y'all enjoy hehe.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing that Reiner was greeted to once he’d woken from his heavy slumber was a pounding headache that immobilized him. His fingers flew to his temples, groaning deeply as he rolled over to his side, something piercing him in his obliques as he did so.</p><p>Glancing down apprehensively, he noted a fork, which had been the culprit of this little assault, laying in his bed, next to the emptied carton of Chinese takeout that he’d eaten for breakfast… yesterday. That must mean…</p><p>“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, sitting up and grabbing his phone to check what time it was. 12 P.M. on Tuesday. The last thing he’d remembered was stuffing himself with fried rice Monday morning, the first proper meal he’d had in ages, and then laying down to rest his eyes for only a moment before his class. And now, he’d realized, the day had passed and he’d missed all of his Monday classes, and his first Tuesday lecture.</p><p>This was the latest addition the countless list of absence’s he'd attained since the beginning of the second semester of his sophomore year. He couldn’t pretend to be unsure of what to attribute it to—could not pretend that nothing grand had happened to him this year that would have changed him so drastically.</p><p>He thought back longingly on his freshman year, when he’d still been bright-eyed and excited to make his family proud. He was eager to make the most of his freshman year of college, which he’d earned for free thanks to a generous merit scholarship. He’d traveled across the sea from his home country to attend university, in the hopes of freeing his family from their generations of misfortune. </p><p>When he’d returned home after the first year of college, the light in his eyes had dimmed a bit—he realized the reality of academia would not allow for such mobility to take place without sacrifice, but he was prepared. He would do whatever it took, at the cost of his own health, to earn a better life—if not for him, then for his mother, and for his younger cousin Gabi, who still had fervent hope in her eyes.</p><p>All he could remember from his first semester of sophomore year was hours of work. He’d moved off-campus to live in a small apartment in the inner city, and taken up a part-time job at a small cafe nearby to pay the monthly rent. Still, though, he found himself eating ramen for breakfast and dinner, going out less, and staying in to study more. The days of going to frat parties with his friends—Marcel, Annie, Porco, and the rest of them— seemed so far removed. </p><p>He couldn’t even bring himself to remember his escapades onto the town with Bertholt, his closest friend. They’d come from the same hometown, and their families were close with one another. Reiner couldn’t remember a time when the two of them weren't together—until they weren’t. Now, the apartment that Reiner lived in, that he’d once shared with his closest friend, felt empty. Devoid. </p><p>After Bertholt’s death during winter break, he should’ve known then that he was only heading towards burnout by working himself so hard—because by the next semester, he’d completely fallen apart at the seams.</p><p>His phone rang loud, and it knocked him out of his daydream enough for him to pick it up and apprehensively glance down. He did not recognize the number, but picked it up anyway.</p><p>“Am I speaking to Reiner Braun?” a woman’s voice asked him. </p><p>“Yes.” was his only response. He sounded hoarser than he’d intended, and cleared his throat once in an attempt to remedy this.</p><p>“Perfect.” She said, and Reiner scowled at her overly enthusiastic voice. “Well, my name is Zoe Hange, and I am the new academic advisor for students of the honors college here at Paradis University.”</p><p>Oh, fuck, thought Reiner, I’m screwed. Without a doubt, the university had taken note of his absence, failing grades, and was going to revoke his scholarship without a second thought. He’d be returning home within weeks, empty-handed. </p><p>“I believe you’re already aware of why I’m calling you, Mr. Braun. You’ve missed over half of your classes this spring semester.” She noted, and Reiner couldn’t help the embarrassment that flooded his veins. “I’m concerned you are in danger of losing your scholarship, and I would hate for you to have to cover these costs out-of-pocket.”</p><p>Reiner was, too. His brains were his only asset—they were the reason he’d gotten into university, and they were what paid his tuition installments.</p><p>“I understand that you’re very bright. I would hate to see Paradis University lose a potentially great student like you.” She explained. “I would like to see you in my office today at 4:30. We can discuss some solutions for this situation.”</p><p>Realizing that he’d not said anything for the duration of the entire call, Reiner immediately thanked her.</p><p>“Thank you so much, Ms. Hange. I’ll be there at 4:30.” It was probably the most amount of words he’d spoken consecutively in days. The two exchanged goodbyes before ending the call, and Reiner fell back onto his flat, unstuffed pillow, cursing at the ceiling. It appeared he’d actually have to leave his bed today.</p><p>———</p><p>At exactly 4:00, Reiner had begun the walk from his apartment to his advisor’s office on campus, having to pass many of the city’s cement skyscrapers and blocks filled with bustling activity to step foot onto the lush campus. </p><p>It seemed like it had been forever since he’d made this trek—but, that can’t be true, he thought to himself. Mentally retracing his actions over the past few weeks, he struggled to recall the last class he’d actually attended. He was a few minutes away from his destination when he realized that it was his economics lecture last Thursday. He’d had at least six classes since then that he’d missed, but who’s keeping count?</p><p>“Braun! I thought I’d never see your face around here again!” a voice yelled from behind him, and Reiner froze in his tracks. He recognized the voice, but hadn’t heard it in ages—more like months, since that one icy night in December. </p><p>“Are you gonna pretend to be deaf or something?” </p><p>Reiner heard him laugh and finally turned around to face Marcel. His face seemed almost foreign now compared to how he’d last seen him—bandaged, bruised, and tear-stained. Now, his cheeks were rosy, and he was laughing. How had he found the ability to smile?</p><p>Looking behind him, Reiner noticed that Marcel wasn't alone—rather, a group of his friends—which were Reiner’s friends, too—stood a few meters behind, casting apprehensive glances at the two of them.</p><p>“Hey, Marcel.” Reiner managed to get out, finally looking him in the eyes. Marcel’s smile faltered a little bit, no doubt ascertaining the empty look that was plastered across Reiner’s face. </p><p>“Reiner, how have you been?” His voice was quieter now than before, likely not wanting Annie and the rest of their friends to hear. Reiner’s only response was a shake of his head as he pivoted on his heels.</p><p>“I’ve been fine. Sorry, I have to get to class now.” </p><p>Reiner didn’t wait for Marcel to give a response before turning in the opposite direction to continue his walk to his advisor’s office. He couldn’t bear to look at Marcel’s face for a moment longer, not when every second he spent peering into his large eyes reminded him of that dark winter night. </p><p>He was at the door to Hange’s office by 4:30 exactly, and did not think twice before knocking firmly on the door, hoping he wouldn’t need to say his name. Instead of an answer, the door swung open to reveal a woman who stood a few inches beneath him, beaming exuberantly, with her hand outstretched towards him.</p><p>“Zoe Hange!” she introduced herself, taking Reiner’s hand in a handshake so firm that he could feel his fingers lose circulation. “Come on in, Reiner.”</p><p>The two of them entered the spacious room, and he took a seat before her desk in the plush leather chair that she had set out. She took her respective seat at a swiveling desk chair, spinning around on it once for good measure before leaning her arms into the desk, placing her elbows on the mahogany wood.</p><p>“Let’s cut to the chase, why don’t we?” She made no attempt to dilly-dally. “I know you’re a good student, Reiner. I’m not sure how your old advisor was, but I make it my goal to help my students. I know a person in distress when I see one.”</p><p>Reiner ground his teeth together, clenching his jaw. He didn't expect this meeting to be so… demeaning. He could feel her pity oozing out of every word she spoke, and he closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing them shut before opening them. At least she hasn’t notified my parents.</p><p>“You’re failing nearly all of your classes, Mr. Braun. Normally, this would result in a loss of your scholarship, and if you kept it up, you could kiss all of your hopes of graduating good-bye.” Her tone remained jovial, even as she recounted exactly how Reiner had ruined his own hopes of success. “But I don’t want to see that happen to you. Do you?”</p><p>He shook his head no, unable to focus on allowing words to come out of his mouth.</p><p>“As I thought. Okay, then—I’ll make you a deal,” she moved her hands to the keyboard of her desktop and began typing, “I’ll put you on academic probation. That much is not up for debate. But you will be able to keep your scholarship, if I can see that you’ve made an improvement in your grades. I want you to be passing all of your classes by spring break.”</p><p>His heart skipped a beat as he made a mental note of the deadline, which seemed to be rapidly approaching—spring break began in a little under a month. For a moment, his thoughts flashed to his previous plans for spring break that he’d made at the beginning of the school year. He’d planned to rent a house on the beach with Bertholt, Annie, Porco, Pieck, and Marcel and have the time of his life. And now…</p><p>“Okay, I can do that.” He muttered, unable to meet Hange’s gaze for any longer as it began to bore holes through him. Her response was a bitter laugh, which she apologized for with a quick “sorry”.</p><p>“With all due respect, I’ve seen plenty of students like you. Raised into greatness—you think you can do anything. You’re sure that whatever you’re going through right now can be put aside, and you’ll just figure it out yourself. Am I wrong?”</p><p>She took his silence as answer enough.</p><p>“I thought not. It’s for this reason that I’ll be referring you to a therapist working for the university’s heath services. I think it will be good for you to have a positive outlet for your emotions.”</p><p>“Ms. Hange, I don’t really need—“</p><p>“You can call me Hange.” She cut him off, and the two locked eyes for a moment before she continued, ignoring his objection. “Along with the therapist, there is a student I know of that would be honored to conduct tutoring sessions to get you caught up, free of charge. You may know her—Mikasa Ackerman.”</p><p>Reiner froze for a moment as he tried to contextualize the name—knowing he’d heard it before, but unable to place exactly where. Regardless, he only nodded his head before accepting the slip of paper that Hange slid over to him, with two names and two phone numbers on it—one for Mikasa, the other for the therapist.</p><p>“I hope you make the most of these opportunities, Mr. Braun.” she told him, and Reiner paused, the slip of paper resting between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll see you the same place and time next week, yes?”</p><p>Reiner nodded his head yes before the two of them exchanged pleasantries, and he left her office, finally letting out a long exhale. He took a moment to catch his breath, leaning against the wall outside her door as his mind spun. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to get this bad. He could only imagine his mother at home, over the stove cooking dinner for his family—and the pained expression she’d no doubt gain as he stumbled through the door, trying to explain to her that he’d been expelled because he was too pathetic to continue. </p><p>The image sent a shiver down his spine, and he quickly took out his phone, typing in a number before constructing a text message.</p><p>Hi, Mikasa, this is Reiner Braun. My advisor said you’d be willing to help me.</p><p>He kept his message simple, reading over it once before pressing the “send” button. He immediately put his phone back in his pocket before he could allow the deep embarrassment to set in—he was never one to beg, or to reach out for help, but here he was…</p><p>The walk back to his apartment felt impossibly long. He’d purposefully dodged the area where he’d encountered his friends, and had arrived back to his door in 45 minutes. As soon as he stepped foot back into apartment, he’d collapsed onto the couch, falling into a fitful sleep. He’d start going to classes tomorrow maybe, but today had been filled with enough drama already.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. guess i'm a coward</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>trigger warning for death/violence/car accident/drunk driving oops.</p><p>mentions of drug use (just weed). angst ofc. i apologize for this chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> 'You asshole, there’s no way I’m doing that!' Bertholt laughed from the drivers seat. His long hands were wrapped around the steering wheel of his brand new car that he’d just bought. Along with the earnings from his new job and a bit of help from his family back home, he'd managed to scrounge together enough to get a beat-up car that was nearly prehistoric, but he’d been proud of it regardless. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Aren’t you glad you came, Reiner?' asked Marcel from the backseat, his words slurred from the copious amounts of alcohol he’d chugged at the party. Bertholt laughed from the driver’s seat, then turned to Reiner.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Reiner,' he began, about to say something, but his voice cut out. Lips still moving, no sound came from him—in fact, all Reiner could hear was the rumbling of the engine. Cold fear raced through his blood as he realized exactly how the scene would go down.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The entire car went cold, as frigid as the ice on the road, and, in a matter of moments, the silence was broken by a loud crash. Reiner could hardly move his head to see Bertholt’s head flying through the windshield, and Marcel’s body flew towards the front seat, crushing Reiner’s windpipe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Reiner,' repeated Bertholt, the blood in his throat causing his words to sound like a gurgle. 'Reiner.' He repeated yet again. 'Reiner.'  </em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Reiner awoke with a cold sweat, his exposed skin sticking to the leather couch. What time was it? How long had he been asleep for?</p><p>“Reiner!” a voice shouted from the doorway, accompanied with a loud knock. “I know you’re in there. I can see the light on.”</p><p>So the voice hadn’t only been a figment of his imagination, as he’d assumed when he’d woken up. He’d figured it was yet another result of the countless recurring nightmares which had tormented him since his best friend’s death. </p><p>Dazed, he rose from his couch and strode to his door, unlocking it as he rubbed his eyes gently to clear his vision. None other than Marcel stood in front of him, looking concerned.</p><p>“Did I scare you?” he asked, stepping past Reiner and into the apartment, as if he’d owned the place. </p><p>“Huh?” Reiner asked, still unable to process exactly why Marcel had just showed up on his doorstep. They’d barely spoken since Reiner had fallen into his 'sophomore slump', and it felt almost alien to see Marcel in his apartment like this—so comfortable and familiar. It reminded him of <em> before </em> way too much.</p><p>“You were screaming, from what I can hear.” noted Marcel in that matter-of-fact way of his, as he strolled towards the small kitchen, opening the fridge and appraising its contents. “Christ, dude, what have you been eating?”</p><p>A good question to ask, honestly. He knew what Marcel had been looking at, and it wasn’t much. Likely, the only contents of his fridge were a jug of milk that had expired a month before, a few slices of American cheese, and a leftover slice of pizza that had sat there for the past week. </p><p>“Have you just been totally ignoring all the calls from work? They started calling <em> me </em> just to get to you.” Marcel continued his interrogation as he closed the fridge door, leaning his arm against it as he eyed Reiner. His only explanation was a blank look back at Marcel. “Dude, you need to figure your shit out. They keep making me cover your shifts. I’m tired as hell.”</p><p>“How do you do that?” Reiner’s response did not answer any of his questions—rather, it was an attempt to communicate the giant question he’d wanted to ask him since they’d ran into one another on campus earlier. </p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>“Go to work. Laugh. Smile. All of that shit, honestly.” Reiner spoke, going back to the couch, where he buried his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He squeezed his eyelids shut tightly, hoping that, if he tried hard enough, Marcel would be gone and he could go back to sleep. Maybe this time he could escape that dreadful nightmare.</p><p>“Well, it starts with not holing myself up in a shithole apartment all day, for one.” Marcel sneered, and Reiner rolled his eyes. Of course. It was a mistake to think he’d be able to understand. </p><p>Marcel had always had it easier than Reiner. Parents liked him more, teachers preferred to help him, and the kids at school would never shy away from him during recess. He soared above even Reiner in his academics, and had always seemed so <em> perfect </em> in every way, whereas Reiner always had to sacrifice one thing or another to get what he wanted. If Reiner wanted good grades, he’d have to give up friends. If he wanted money, he’d have to give up his time with family. If he wanted to be happy, he’d have to give up the support he gave to his parents. Marcel, it seemed, could do it all at once. </p><p>“You’re no more alone than I am, Reiner. You have friends. We both do. They all care about you, you know?” Marcel insisted.</p><p>“Do I?” shot back Reiner, scowling at Marcel as he took his face from his hands. Marcel didn’t bother looking hurt.</p><p>“What’s that even supposed to mean, Reiner.” His tone was flat, and Reiner could tell his patience was wearing thin. </p><p>“Bertholt was my friend. He <em> got </em> me. We were cut from the same cloth. You guys,” Reiner did not have to say who he intended to reference, “You’ve all had it so easy. It’s like you were destined for greatness. But now that he’s gone, I just…”</p><p>Marcel’s features softened into compassion for the first time since he’d been there, as if understanding some grand truth that Reiner was still in the dark about.</p><p>“He was all of our friends, Reiner. I’m sorry if you don’t see that, but we’re here to help you. We’ll be there for you, no matter what.” Marcel reached a hand out to place it on Reiner’s shoulder, but he shirked away from the touch. Marcel couldn’t hide the hurt that played across his face this time, and it tied knots in Reiner’s stomach to know that he’d hurt his friend. But it was better this way—he would be protecting Marcel inevitably by hiding his own pain from him. If he was also grieving Bertholt’s death, he would need nothing less than to comfort some pitiful 6 foot tall, blond, unshaven ape.</p><p>Marcel made no further attempt to talk, instead walking for the door he’d just stepped through moments earlier. Before he left, he turned his head towards Reiner, still sat in the living room.</p><p>“You can find us in the library we used to go to every Thursday and Friday evening. If you ever want to talk, that is. That’s what I came to say.” With that, he stepped over the threshold and shut the door. The room felt cold again as he left, and Reiner was left reminiscing on the times when the apartment had not felt as lonely as it did now. The times when he’d had someone to come home to, someone to share stories of terrible customers at work with.</p><p>His nails dug into the skin of his palms, and he could feel the half-moon wounds forming as tears began to fall from his eyes. It had been months since Bertholt’s death, and he was still as torn up as ever. <em> Pathetic </em>, he thought.</p><p>—</p><p>The Mikasa girl had responded back to his text message when he’d been asleep, and they’d exchanged messages back and forth for a bit before settling on a time and place where Mikasa would tutor Reiner—Thursday at 5 PM at the library, after both of their classes for the day had ended. Reiner thought back halfheartedly to Marcel’s words.</p><p>
  <em> Every Thursday and Friday evening. If you ever want to talk… </em>
</p><p>Half of him prayed he would not see his group of friends, would not have to explain to them his disappearance, the dark circles underneath his eyes, or his lack of communication with… well, anybody. No doubt Marcel had already told them all about their little encounter yesterday.</p><p>He forced himself not to think about those things as he walked towards the library robotically, the sun peaking across the horizon as sunset approached. Students began to crowd the areas open to the public, taking seats on benches and laying down on picnic blankets as their classes for the day came to an end. </p><p>He’d gone to every one of his classes since his meeting with Hange, but each hours-long lecture and lab just seemed to be blur. He tried to note down an idea here or there—catching a few important-sounding words from the professors, but at the end of each class, he’d felt drained, only wanting to go back home and sleep the day away yet again. It was enough to convince him that he definitely needed Mikasa’s help. Hange had been right.</p><p>Scanning his ID to enter the library, he stepped through the detectors at the entryway before following the detailed instructions that the girl had texted him, leading Reiner to stand before the door of one of the private study rooms. He offered up a thanks to whatever gods would listen to him at this small mercy—this way, if his friends were at the library, he would have no chance at encountering them while he tried to studied.</p><p>Hesitating briefly, he lifted his hand to the door, giving it one firm knock that rang through the quiet library, earning Reiner a few dirty looks from the various students sitting around. </p><p>“Come in,” said a faint voice from the other side, and Reiner pushed open the door. Inside was a small room, enough for a few people to fit comfortably around the table which occupied the majority of the space inside. On the table sat a few textbooks stacked neatly upon each other, next to a pencil bag and a notebook which had already been opened to a blank, lined page. </p><p>A pair of pale hands rested gently on the notebook, a pen perched between the fingers, belonging to a girl who sat against the plastic chair with impeccable posture. Her strikingly dark hair was cropped close to her ears, and she wore a burgundy scarf wrapped around her long neck, despite the chill of winter being all but gone from the city. This must be Mikasa.</p><p>Upon meeting her blue-gray eyes, Reiner’s brow furrowed in confusion. He knew this girl, had seen those eyes before. He knew that name sounded familiar, but still, even as in took in the girl’s composed, stoic demeanor, he couldn’t place exactly where he’d known her from.</p><p>“Hi, Reiner. I’m Mikasa.” she introduced herself, and he debated on where he should sit for a moment before settling into the chair next to her, the cheap plastic creaking underneath his weight. </p><p>“Hey. Thank you, again.” Reiner managed to express his gratitude, just barely suppressing his instinct to cringe. Although his attempts at classwork over the past days have shown how much he needed Mikasa’s help, something deep inside of him scowled at the thought of having to reach out for help. He should be able to do this on his own. He couldn’t even bring himself to think of the therapist recommended to him by Hange, whose phone number was written on the piece of paper which bore a hole through Reiner’s jeans pocket. </p><p>This close to Mikasa, he could smell her light jasmine fragrance, and he became immediately self conscious of his own presentation. He’d expected her to be some… well, <em> nerd </em>, not a gorgeous girl who seemed to have her entire life together. </p><p>“It’s no problem. Let’s get started, shall we?” Mikasa’s response was simple, quelling his rumbling embarrassment, as her expression held not an ounce of pity as she moved her hands from the notebook to the textbook stacked on top—of course, it was economics. She opened it with a crack coming from the book’s spine, and they immediately jumped to business.</p><p>——</p><p>By the time the two of them had gone over everything in Mikasa’s plan, the sun had fully set, and Reiner could only assume that the public area of the library had cleaned out, save for the few stragglers who aimed to cram for assignments or tests in the upcoming days. Regardless, the stinging in his eyes, accompanied by Mikasa’s growing frequency of yawns told the two of them that their time was up.</p><p>“You know, you’re not half-bad for a student tutor.” Reiner noted with half of a smirk, perhaps the most expression his voice had had in weeks. Mikasa’s response was a wry, soft chuckle that sounded like music to his ears.</p><p>“You’re not half-bad for someone failing all of his classes, then.” Her witty remark took him aback before he let out a surprised chuckle. </p><p>No one had spoken to Reiner like that since Bertholt died. He was the only one who had ever dared to challenge him, playfully or not, regardless of the situation, and since his absence had settled over Reiner’s life, it seemed as if the friends that once surrounded him were too afraid to break him in half to dare say a thing. The realization warmed him inside for a moment, but he could tell that Mikasa, despite being the picture of stoic pleasantry, was perplexed by such a reaction.</p><p>Regardless, she began to take the books she’d brought with her, piling them into her bags, and holding the rest between her arms when she ran out of space. She pulled out her phone to check the time, and they both noted the late hour. </p><p>Reiner’s words were out of his mouth before he could think twice.</p><p>“Let me walk you home.”<br/>
Immediately, he regretted them. He hoped that Mikasa would not take them as a romantic advance, or him implying that she wouldn’t be safe to go home alone, but, honestly he meant none of the sort. He did not doubt that Mikasa could fend for herself—although her alabaster arms were small and her figure lanky, he did not fail to notice the lean muscle and ran underneath her skin. He’d hate to get into it with her—honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d make it out on the winning side.</p><p>Mikasa raised one eyebrow at him as she rose, and he mirrored her movement, standing up with his backpack and phone in his arms.</p><p>“Okay.” was her only answer, and she had turned around and began her walk out of the door without anything further, leaving Reiner scrambling to catch up. </p><p>He was secretly grateful that she’d allowed him to walk her home. Whether or not she could fend for herself, he didn’t want the feeling of someone else’s blood on his hands. And recently, the campus had been receiving plenty of reports of men assaulting women on their way home…</p><p>Putting the thought out of his head, he followed closely behind Mikasa, respecting her space as the two of them shared the comfortable silence on their walk towards Mikasa’s home. She lived on campus, from what he could discern, because the paths she followed seemed to only take the two of them deeper into the heart of the university’s campus. </p><p>Eventually, her quick paced stopped as she approached one of the dormitories, a red-brick building which housed members of the honors program. Confused and a bit dumbfounded, he slowly began to come to a realization.</p><p>“You’re a freshman?” He wondered out loud, loud enough for Mikasa to hear and swivel her head back to meet his eyes. He wasn’t sure, but it was pretty uncommon for people to live in the dorms after their freshman year.</p><p>She smiled coyly, the gesture seeming to light up the night sky. His heart ached as he imagined that same smile on a different black-haired, lanky person, a smile he had not seen in what felt like forever. He would have given anything in that moment to be able to smile just like that.</p><p>“Yup.” Was her only response as she neared the main entry of her dorm, pausing on the handle to wave him goodbye, when a long-haired male figure came rushing through the doors, laughing belligerently as he stumbled upon seeing Mikasa.</p><p>“Mikasa! I’ve been waiting for you…” He walked towards her, and as he approached the two of them, Reiner could smell the scent of weed wafting off of him. </p><p>Mikasa reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders as he swayed, chuckling gently, and heaved his weight onto her as she wrapped one arm around his waist, turning slightly to wave goodbye. A single streetlamp illuminated the two of them, and for a fleeting moment, Reiner caught a glimpse of the man’s long brown hair, which brushed past his shoulders. Besides the marijuana, he could smell mahogany fragrance radiating from the man. His eyes were lined with red as he leaned his head into Mikasa’s shoulder.</p><p>“Bye, Reiner. Have a good night.” began Mikasa, turning to look at the man looking on her shoulder after Reiner waved his hand goodbye to her. “Eren, it’s late…” she mumbled under her breath.</p><p>In that moment, Reiner’s blood ran cold. That was the name. <em> Eren Yeager </em>.</p><p>The two locked eyes for a moment—Eren’s grey eyes cold as ever as he failed to realize exactly who stood before him. The last time Reiner had heard that name— <em> Eren Yeager </em>—he had been in a courtroom, dressed in an ill-fitting suit, choking back cries as he recounted to the judge exactly what happened. How he’d lost his closest friend. </p><p>He couldn’t stop himself from turning on his heels and walking away briskly, trying desperately to contain himself as he turned what would be an hour long walk back home into one lasting barely 30 minutes. </p><p>Eren Yeager.</p><p>That was the man who had sat on the stand and helped his friend get away with murder. He had been in the car that day, his best friend had been the one driving when they blew threw a red light and crashed into Bertholt’s brand new car.</p><p>They had been feet away when Reiner saw the life leave his best friend’s eyes.</p><p>The thought became too much for him to bear as he barged through the doors of his apartment, making a beeline for the door on the right of the kitchen—the door that had remained untouched for months now. </p><p>As he entered Bertholt’s room, the cold hit him like a slap to the face, but he could do little more than register it as a brief afterthought before he fell onto the bed, succumbing to the emotions that had threatened to choke him the entirety of his walk home.</p><p>And so he fell asleep just like that—angry. He cursed aloud, damning Eren’s name and that of his friend, for killing Bertholt. And his own, for letting the two bastards get away with it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. no one will save me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>if you havent noticed, i'm naming each of these chapters after 'nobody' by mitski, because im a lesbian. lmao.</p>
<p>ok so in this chapter we stumble across a certain brown haired jaeger...</p>
<p>anways, warning for this chapter: alcohol, drug use (weed), violence.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Reiner had come to the realization by Friday night that he had no idea how numbers even worked. </p>
<p>As he stared blankly at his advanced calculus homework, the various numbers and symbols failing to grab his attention, he wondered how he’d ever been the star pupil at all. He had never been the best, but, by most definitions, he was rapidly approaching <em> dumb </em> territory at this point. </p>
<p>One hand’s fingers on his temples, Reiner tried to massage the pressure migraine that had slowly been growing in his brain since his encounter with MIkasa’s… friend, Eren, the past night. A loud guitar solo reverberated through his eardrums, the song he’d turned on in hopes of drowning out his own thoughts coming to a violent crescendo. </p>
<p>He sat in the same study room that he’d shared with Mikasa yesterday, knowing fully well that he would not be able to concentrate in his own home space. Not if he could still see the (very few, and very sparce) decorations that him and Bertholt had chosen for their shared apartment, not when he could walk a few feet and still see a bag of Bertholt’s favorite brand of chips, left open from the last time the brunette had grabbed a handful. And especially not when his bed enticed him to lie down and forget about all of this—to let everything go, let himself go, and get shipped back home to his mother’s doorstep, a pitiful wretch and a failure.</p>
<p>So he’d chosen to divert from his usual Friday plans—which included falling asleep on his couch or his bed while the sun was still out and waking up halfway through Saturday—and head to the library after his last lecture ended at 7 PM.</p>
<p>The library was emptier than it had been the day before, and, though he remembered Marcel’s words about the recurring whereabouts of the group of friends he’d once belonged to, he expected the group to leave eventually, to go on a bar crawl or head to a fraternity house’s basement to get trashed and have to find an unreliable ride back home. </p>
<p>It was this thought that steadied his pulse as he scribbled some notes to himself, glancing back and forth to his textbook to try and ascertain as much information as possible. With a content sigh, he shut the book as he ended the unit, moving to grab his next book, when the door of the study room opened before him, revealing none other than Annie Leonhart. </p>
<p>She hadn’t changed much since the last time he’d properly seen her, which must have been last December. Her blonde hair was still kept neatly trimmed at the same length, albeit swept up behind her ears into a messy updo that no one could quite understand. Her eyebrows raised in a signature Annie expression—neither surprised nor shocked, rather… satisfied.</p>
<p>“So Porco really was right when he said he’d seen you come in here.” She sauntered over to the table like a lynx, placing her palms on the table inches away from Reiner’s books, shifting her weight forward as the two met eyes. He let out an aggravated sigh through his nostrils, clenching his jaw as he moved quickly to pack his things back into his bags and leave before the situation worsened, when something caught his attention in the background.</p>
<p>Tearing his focus away from her intense gaze, Reiner looked behind the opened door—which he’d <em> sworn </em> he’d locked, and nearly shat himself at the image that greeted him. Between two shelves containing ancient tomes sat his friends—Marcel cast a curious glance toward the scene, whereas Porco and Pieck made casual conversation, undoubtedly attempting to hide the fact that they’d fostered this interaction.</p>
<p>Pieck noticed Reiner’s attention, and gave him a bit of a smile, from her seated position on the floor, and Reiner felt something deep inside of him strain. Her messy black hair, her tired dark eyes, all reminded him of a home that had never felt more far away. Of a past that did not completely belong to him.</p>
<p>“Don’t say no.” Stated Annie simply, grabbing his backpack in one graceful motion, and Reiner turned his scowl towards her now, reaching to grab his bag from her, but she simply clicked her tongue before stepping away. “Come out with us. Please, Reiner. It’s been so long—we miss you.”</p>
<p>He didn’t have to think twice about his response, and he shook his head once in a curt, firm rejection. </p>
<p>“No.” With that, he grabbed Annie’s arm, yanking his bag away from her, secretly regretting that he’d used such unnecessary force against her when she’d only wanted to spend some time with him.</p>
<p>“It’s not a party or anything. It’s just a pretty chill movie night with some friends from around campus.” Annie insisted, following Reiner as he made his way to the opened door. Pieck and Porco both turned away at his decreasing distance, while Marcel still continued to cast glares at the two of them. </p>
<p>It was then that he noticed that none of the group had any study materials—not so much as a pencil, laptop, or sheet of notebook paper was in sight. He stopped, eyes darting back and forth between Annie and the rest of them.</p>
<p>This had been a set-up.</p>
<p>Of course they didn’t actually spend time in the library. They had always preferred the party scene, and loved to have fun and let loose after the rigorous academically-motivated childhood they’d all suffered through. Which meant… they had staged an intervention. Specifically for Reiner.</p>
<p>Reiner’s first instinct was to be offended, but upon reassessing the situation, the ghost of a smile danced upon his lips. Maybe he did not have home, maybe he did not have Bertholt. But he had people who would try their best. So he found himself nodding.</p>
<p>“I’m going to need to hear it in words, you oaf.” teased Annie, nearing closer to him, almost in disbelief at his agreement.</p>
<p>“Fine. I’ll go with you guys. Where exactly is this 'chill movie night' supposed to be?”</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>Reiner arrived, with the help of Annie’s directions, to a building a few minutes away from campus, in the middle of the downtown area. Eyeing it suspiciously, he approached the door to what seemed to be an upscale apartment complex, where he saw his small group of friends standing, huddled together in their jackets for warmth against the cool night air.</p>
<p>“Who do you guys know that lives in a place like <em> this </em>?” he questioned them, and Annie laughed, throwing her head back slightly and gave him a wink.</p>
<p>“We know people, Reiner. One of the perks of leaving the house.”</p>
<p>He shook his head casually, forcing a smile as he followed behind them as they entered into the lobby, then the elevator, taking it up to the… highest floor. Quickly, he realized that this mysterious friend of theirs lived in a penthouse. </p>
<p>Porco was the one to ring the doorbell, doing so once before it was quickly answered by a tall girl with dark brown hair tied back, an exasperated look on her face. He recognized her as Ymir, a girl he’d shared a few classes with. He was pretty sure she was familiar with Marcel, but did she really live here?</p>
<p>“Where’s Historia?” asked Annie, nudging past Ymir, who scoffed lightly as she directed the blonde girl to the couch in the middle of the living room. As the rest of the group stepped through, Reiner felt no other choice but to do the same, nodding awkwardly to Ymir, who furrowed her brows in confusion. </p>
<p>“Who’s this?” she asked to the person nearest to her—which happened to be Pieck, who looked back at her with the same hint of a smile that always resided on her mouth. </p>
<p>“Reiner. Our friend.” she explained simply, as if the situation wasn’t exponentially more complicated than that—as if he hadn’t been a terrible friend to all of them since Bertholdt’s death, as if he hadn’t said terrible things to Marcel that one day…</p>
<p>He cast a grateful glance towards Pieck before joining the rest of his friends, who had all sat down at various places along the couch, with Historia sitting alone on a large recliner, wrapped up in a furry red blanket. She gave him a kind smile before getting up to wrap him in a hug, her head leaning against his chest.</p>
<p>“It’s been too long, Reiner. You really should come to visit more often.” She scolded him, the smile evident in her voice. He laughed and agreed with her. The two had been close last year, before Porco and Pieck had transferred last year, and he hadn’t had many friends. </p>
<p>Last year, though, she’d lived in the dorms like everyone else—now, it seemed, she had inherited a large sum of wealth that went towards the penthouse. He supposed that everyone had undergone changes recently, and chose not to question it. He sat at the only open spot, next to Pieck, as he watched Porco and Marcel erupt into an argument about what movie to watch.</p>
<p>“Dude, we are <em> not </em> watching that again! Everyone’s tired of it!” yelled Porco, grabbing the remote out of Marcel’s hands before trying to change the movie. Marcel stopped him before he could, wrenching the controller from his hands.</p>
<p>Reiner couldn’t help but chuckle as the squabble continued, wishing he could drink in the moment forever. Wishing that he was still as much a part of this group as he was before everything had changed. Yet again, he was faced with the question: <em> How did they all do it? How did they manage to smile, and act okay, after all that had happened? </em></p>
<p>“Pick your poison, friend.” A voice said from behind him, and he looked back to see Ymir holding a few bottles and cans in her hands. He surveyed the beverages momentarily, eyes glancing across a few brand names of wine coolers, hard seltzers, and beers. He settled on the thing he believed would get him the least drunk—a fruity hard seltzer that Porco would no doubt laugh at him for choosing. </p>
<p>He didn’t care, though—he doubted that Porco would laugh, and he didn’t much like the feeling of getting drunk after Bertholdt died. </p>
<p>He watched as Ymir passed out a few more drinks to the rest of them, which calmed down the two brothers enough for them to stop fighting and settle on a movie to watch.</p>
<p>Around 20 minutes into watching the movie, a timer dinged from the kitchen, causing Historia to leave her spot on Ymir’s lap where the two had been resting on the armchair. Reiner turned to see her grab something from out of the oven and begin slicing into it, before she walked back towards them with a tray of brownies in her hands. </p>
<p>“Anyone want some brownies?” She asked, a laugh in her voice that perplexed Reiner in the slightest, but he took one nonetheless. Biting into the chocolate, he grimaced at the taste, not wanting to mention the weird flavor they’d left on his tongue, almost like…</p>
<p><em> Oh. </em> He realized.</p>
<p>“I swear you’re, like, and edible <em> god </em>, Historia!” laughed Marcel, and Annie joined in on the praise as the two of them ate their servings, causing Historia to blush slightly.</p>
<p>“She learned from the best!” perked Ymir from the corner of the room, causing Historia to roll her eyes before she return to her lap, placing a gentle kiss on the brunette’s cheek.</p>
<p>Reiner eyed the remaining piece of the brownie he held in his hand, debating whether or not it would be a good idea to get high tonight. After all, he had a test on Monday that he should really be studying for instead of getting cross-faded at a movie night.</p>
<p>He had been halfway to getting up to throw the rest of his brownie away when he stopped to look at his friends around him—Annie was curled up with her legs into a ball, leaning against Marcel’s shoulder as the man laughed with his beer can against his lips. Pieck, sitting next to him, was as quiet as always, but had her side pressed into Porco’s as she shielded her face from the horror movie playing on the large television.</p>
<p><em>This is it,</em> he thought. <em> This is the life I’ve been missing out on. </em></p>
<p>With this resolve, he placed the rest of the brownie into his mouth, washing it down with another swig of his drink, and allowed himself to get a bit more comfortable. Studying for the test could wait. </p>
<p>—</p>
<p>The movie came to an end around an hour and a half later, and the group began chatting about the events of the movie and plans for the weekend. Within a few minutes more, they had decided—well, everyone except Pieck—to head to their favorite bar downtown. Pieck, whose social battery had apparently run out, expressed that she would be just fine going back to her dorm. </p>
<p>Reiner only watched as the plans were being made, unable to properly focus on what was being said as the thoughts in his head began to slow down, slowly beginning to feel the effects of the brownie and the alcohol flooding his system. </p>
<p>“Reiner, you coming or going back home?” asked Marcel, and the rest of the group eyed him as he smiled, then shook his head no.</p>
<p>“No, thank you. I think I’ll walk Pieck back and then head home.” stated Reiner, turning to Pieck for confirmation. She nodded with a smile, which he returned. </p>
<p>The two stood up from their places on the couch, giving their thanks to both Ymir and Historia for hosting, before heading out the door. As they took the elevator back down to the ground floor, Pieck turned to Reiner.</p>
<p>“I’m happy that you came.” she told him, her large eyes staring up at him, as if expecting some answer that could possibly explain his behavior, but he knew that she would understand regardless. She had dealt with her fair share of grief firsthand.</p>
<p>“Me too.” Was all he said for the rest of the elevator ride, and for the following walk to her dorm. He dropped her off in front of the door, and they parted ways after their goodbyes.</p>
<p>Now alone, Reiner began his walk, allowing his body to sway gently with the breeze that brushed through the campus, tilting his head up to face the stars. It had been about this time of night when Bertholdt had died. Or maybe it was a few hours later… he couldn’t remember properly.</p>
<p>He struggled to remember the exact way home, having to turn around and recalculate the route a few times before he decided to sit on a bench along one of the walking paths to clear his mind before continuing his walk home. </p>
<p>Placing his face in his hands, he groaned softly, the noise turning into a chuckle as he remembered the events of the night, and how, for just a moment, he had felt truly alright.</p>
<p>“Bert, you would have loved it. The movie was so shitty…” He mumbled under his breath, closing his eyes. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two voices and footsteps, the former of which stopped abruptly as they got closer. </p>
<p>He couldn’t bring himself to lift his head up—it felt as if all of his limbs were anchors and he was underwater. He wouldn’t have even tried to look and see who it was, anyways, if he hadn’t noticed the footsteps also stopping nearly in front of him.</p>
<p>He cast a precursory glance upwards, and he spotted the culprits—two guys, one shorter than the other and with blond hair. His eyes narrowed, recognizing them…</p>
<p>Armin Arlert. </p>
<p>That was who the blond man was, the one with close-cropped hair that now stood looking at him, eyes as large as a deer in headlights. Without much thinking, Reiner rose to his feet and approached the two, his complete focus directed to Armin. </p>
<p>The man who killed Bertholdt.</p>
<p>“You know, it’s funny I’m seeing you here.” He said, noticing his words slurring as he struggled to keep his balance.</p>
<p>“Back off, dude.” Came a voice. Turning, Reiner shifted his eyes to note the other man…. Eren Yeager, perhaps the person he wanted to see least today. Besides Armin, that is. </p>
<p>“Look who’s talking now.” Reiner shot back, turning back to Armin. His problem was with him, not Eren. For now. “You know, I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve seen you last. There’s so much I’ve been meaning to tell you.” His words were coated in icy venom, a tone he hadn’t heard from himself in ages.</p>
<p>The blond man furrowed his brows and took a cautious step backwards, raising his hands up. </p>
<p>“Listen, I’m sorry. I—“ Armin began, but was quickly interrupted by Reiner, yet again. </p>
<p>“You’re sorry? That’s a new one.” He spat, getting even closer to Armin and grabbing him by the collar. “You’re not sorry. Sorry people serve time when they murder people’s friends. But here you are, roaming the campus as a free man. As if you didn’t rob someone of their life.”</p>
<p>As he said this, Reiner thought back to the rest of his winter break after the car accident. He had gone home with Marcel, Annie, Porco, and Pieck as always, and Bertholdt’s parents had been waiting for them at the airport. They had heard of their  son’s death the week before, but couldn’t afford to fly to Paradis, and so his body was sent to them weeks later. </p>
<p>The look in their eyes… the heartbreak as their fears were confirmed, as they saw all of Bertholdt’s friends return without him… that was the picture Reiner could not get out of his head as he cocked his arm back, forming a fist, as he prepared to hit Armin square in the nose. </p>
<p>He was halfway through the swing when he felt another fist connect with him, directly on his temple, the force enough to throw off his impaired balance, as he fell to the floor, his vision blurring before eventually going black.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>